Second Chance At A First Love
by Love-Aine
Summary: Holy Roman Empire is still alive and sees Italy again. First fanfic and I suck at summaries. One-shot :D


He couldn't believe as he inhaled the sweet scent. Everything was so warm. It was almost too warm and he couldn't find it in himself to breathe again. If he moved, he might be shaken from this perfection.

For the first time in years-- _centuries!_-- he was back in his old home. The smell of the pillow was fragrant with poppies. Hungary must have cleaned the bed just for his arrival. Only she would know how much he adored the scent of poppies. They smelled of Italy.

Italien!

His heart jumped at the thought. He hadn't seen her in so long! Would she still remember everything? His confession? His vow? He had done as he had promised. He had returned, safe and well. He had gotten sick-- quite sick, actually-- but with the help of his brother, Prussia, he had made it through the wars and had time to replenish his strength. He was bigger now, but his home was no longer his. The fighting had finally stopped, for a while at least. He could rest. He could rest and see his beloved Italien again.

He buried his face deeper into the pillow and twisted around, giggling to himself. Not manly in any way, but the happiness was too much. No one could see, anyways. A teenage boy rolling around on his bed hugging his pillow would have been quite a sight to behold.

Hungary agreed, as her camera made a quiet snapping noise from the doorway.

Italy couldn't believe it. He had tried so hard to believe that what France had said was just a mistake. And just when he was losing hope, Holy Roman Empire had come back!

The brunette spun of his heels, too excited to sleep. He pulled flour and sugar from cupboards along with anything else he could get ahold of. He had promised Holy Riman Empire sweets when he returned, didn't he?

It was a dream. He would see his first love again! After centuries of waiting, ah! He could hardly think. His heart was beating through his chest at every memory.

And tomorrow, he would go to Austria's house and welcome Holy Roman Empire back with open arms and the treats he had promised.

"Holy Roman Empire!" Hungary called from the bottom of the stairs. "Italia is here!"

The teen's hands went clammy and he couldn't think straight. Should he rush down and wrap his arms around her? Should he play it casual and bow, taking her hand and giving it a light kiss? Nothing was making sense. Everything was either too sudden, too slow, too much, too little...! He paced, making sure he didn't claw nervously at his hair, ruining the neat, combed-back locks.

"I-I'll be right there!" he called back.

Damn it. Why did he have to stutter? Did Italien hear? He must have sounded like a fool.

Holding in a breath, he forced himself out the bedroom door, eyes closed tight. Then, he collided with something soft. The thing fell backwards and Holy Roman Empire's eyes shot open again.

It was a boy about his age, brunette, and rubbing his back. The boy looked around quickly once he realized he was in front of the blonde. A small bag was on the floor beside him. The brunette snatched it up and launched up.

"Holy Roman Empire!" he cried, catching the blonde in a hug that knocked the air out of him.

The blonde was floored. Who was this boy? A blush crept to his face and he saw Hungary and Austria coming up the stairs. He begun to feel tears seep through his clothes and the strange brunette clung tighter. There was something familiar about the boy, though.

"Ah," Austria interjected. "I see the two of you are getting reaquanited nicely."

"Re...a...quianted?"

The blonde looked down with wide eyes and saw a bouncing curl that looked so misplaced on top of the brunette's head.

"I-It-Italien?"

"I've missed you so much, Holy Roman Empire!" the boy chirped. "I even made the sweets I promised you!"

He thrust the bag into the blonde's hands and stood back, smiling. There was no doubt about it. Those chocolate eyes that always seemed to be looking into something bright were the same on this boy as they had been on Italia. They were now laced with tears.

"Th-thank you," Holy Roman Empire stammered quietly. "Italien."

Italy hugged the blonde again, rubbing his face in the clean, now damp shirt.

Awkwardly, the taller of the two patted Italy's head and glanced desperately at the two adults as if to ask "_What the hell just happened? When did my Italien become a BOY?"_

But Hungary looked on with a huge smile and Austria was just waiting for something to be said.

"Should we have some supper?" the woman asked.

"Yes!" Holy Roman Empire answered, maybe a little too loudly. But he wanted to break the awkward meeting.

Italy peeled off of the blonde's front and locked onto his arm, resting his cheek against his shoulder as they walked to the dining room.

Was this really his Italien? The little maid that he had fallen in love with? Now Italy was in boys' clothes, had a lanky, boyish figure, and even --_his_-- voice was deeper. It was impossible. How could he have gone that long without realizing something that should have been so _obvious_?

The blush had never left the blonde's face. He dared a glance at the clinging boy. The curl bounced joyfully and other than the slight adam's apple and the clothes, Italy could still have passed for a girl. He was definitely pretty enough. Was that the right word? Holy Roman Empire had used it time and time again before to describe the Italian, but now... could that word be used for a boy? Yes, he thought, looking closer, it could. At least in this case.

The two sat next to eachother while they ate, Holy Roman Empire occasionally stealing glances to make sure it all wasn't just a dream. The dinner went by smoothly with no accidents or interruptions. Italy sometimes would ask a friendly question and the blonde would answer timidly.

After dinner, Hungary offered to clean the dishes and said that the boys looked tired. They were, mostly from the anticipation of the day.

"Guten nacht, Italien," Holy Roman Empire bid, watching the brunette go to his old room. _His_. It was still strange to think.

"Um, bonne notte!" Italy said hestitantly.

Holy Roman Empire went in his room and sat on the bed, taking off his outer layer of clothes and ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. His heart still fluttered with every though of the Italian, but it was so different now. He twisted and fell into his pillow, breathing hard into to fabric until his face turned blue. His mind spun at a sudden realization:

He had kissed a boy.

Not only that, he had pledged his love to him. To a _boy_. Could he still feel that way? He hadn't gone a day without thinking of his Italien since he had left for war. Would that change now? Italy was still the same person. Just... just seen in a different light.

Rain outside pattered on the window panes and there was the occasional sound of distant thunder. It was relaxing, really. Getting into his sleepwear, the teen crawled into bed and closed his eyes. An hour passed and he could not sleep. There were too many things to think about.

"Holy Roman Empire?" a hushed voice asked from the shadows as the door creaked open.

"I-Italien!" the blonde said, jumping to a sitting postion. "What's wrong?"

The brunette chuckled and walked closer, gently closing the door behind him. "It's silly, but... but I still don't like thunder storms. Can I stay in your bed like I did before you left?"

"Uh, uh, um... Y-yeah. Of course."

The Italian jumped forward and onto the bed, right next to the other teen. His eyes had tears in them, but they were just from fright from the storm. Holy Roman Empire realized the boy wasn't wearing a shirt and it startled him. After all the centuries of thinking that Italy was a girl, it was a habit to feel flustered at the sight of the brunette's skin.

The blonde tried his hardest to ignore and bury himself back into the sheets, back turned to the Italian. He felt Italy get comfortable beside him. Just as his eyes eased closed, another clap of thinder rattled the skies. Hands dug into the back of the blonde's shirt and a small gasp met his ears.

"Are you all right, Italien?"

"It's just the thunder," the boy replied meekly. "I'll be okay."

Another round of thunder caused Italy to tremble and inch ever so closer. Holy Roman Empire turned and wrapped his arms around the shaking teen, bringing his face to his chest.

"Calm down, Italien," he whispered into the brunette's silky hair. "The thunder can't hurt you."

They rested there and the trembling slowed.

"Thank you, Holy Roman Empire," Italy whispered on the verge of exhaustion. "I'm so glad you came back."

"I promised, didn't I?"

"...Do you still love me?"

The question made the blonde's heart skip a beat. He pulled back slightly and looked in the face of the brunette. The boy's eyes were wide, a rare sight, and they were watery and pleading.

Oh yes, "cute" could definitely describe a boy.

Glad his blush wasn't too evident in the darkness, the blonde grasped Italy's shoulder and brought his chin up with his other hand for a kiss. It tasted sweet, like the dessert they had just eaten an hour before. After a second, he pulled back and turned back around, face burning.

"Ever since the 900's, Italien."


End file.
